


Phlochte Drabbles 26-37

by CupcakeGirlA



Series: Phlochte Drabble Series [3]
Category: Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Double Drabble, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGirlA/pseuds/CupcakeGirlA





	Phlochte Drabbles 26-37

26\. Happening/27. Bare (double-drabble)  
We all knew they were friends. To be honest, it always kind of confused me that they got along so well. I mean, they’re both great guys, but they’re each other’s biggest competition inside the pool. I manage to get on fairly well with the other freestyle sprinters, but never as well as those two have always gotten along. I guess now I know the reason why. It happens at training camp. Coach Bowman wants Michael, I have to go back upstairs to my room to get something anyway so I volunteer to go get him. I search my room, only to remember that my kickboard is drying out in the sun on the balcony that I shared with the next room over, Mike’s room. Knowing that, I decided to go ahead and knock while I was out there. I didn’t. I meant too, and then I spotted them. There was no misunderstanding what they were doing. They were all tangled up, and that was a lot of bare skin showing if they were just wrestling. My jaw dropped open, and I backed up so suddenly I almost fell over the railing. Ryan and Michael? Wow, would wonders never cease?

 

28\. B.J.  
You can’t believe he let you talk him into this. Ever since you’ve known Mike, he’s had this gigantic stick stuck so far up his ass you’re surprised he can bend over on the starting block. In the safety of your own head you refer to this invisible stick as B.J., short for Bob Jr. Yet here he is, wearing swim trunks and examining Devon’s old surfboard like it’s the best thing he’d ever seen in the history of ever. 

“Ready?” you ask. He looks up and smiles a big bright crooked smile, and you can’t help but smile back.

 

29\. Bite  
You pull the razor slowly, carefully over the tan skin of his back. He’s covered in freckles from head to toe. They’re small, barely noticeable unless you get up close. Then you can’t help but stare. They give his tan skin depth, help to contour his perfectly formed muscles. You flick the razor in the water pooled in the sink. He sighs, shoulders raising with the deep breath. You watch the muscles move and flex under his skin, and all you want to do in that moment is bite him, right there, where his thick neck meets shoulder. He’s perfect. 

 

30\. Outed  
You’re not sure where the photographer was hiding. You only know that he got some pretty spectacularly high-quality photos of you together. And that while you quietly freak out, your cellphone ringing constantly in your hand, Ryan remains completely calm and unfazed by your mutual public outing. 

“Dude, calm down! It’s no big deal. You were retiring in like 3 days anyway,” he says. You shake your head. 

“My mom did not need to find out I am gay on international television because of a sex-scandal!” you yell. He stares at you like you’re stupid. 

“You think she didn’t know?” 

 

31\. Close/32. Benefit (double-drabble)  
The medal ceremony for the swimming events at the 2012 London Olympic Games takes place at far end of the Aquatic Center, pressed back against a wall. The three podium steps were wide, but not very long. Allowing only room for the Men’s 4x200 Free relay team to stand 2x2 during the medal ceremony. So the four of them, Ricky Berens, Conor Dwyer, Ryan Lochte, and Michael Phelps, are forced to stand pressed close together on the uppermost step as they prepare to receive their Gold medals. By mutual agreement Ryan and Mike step to the back of their foursome, giving Conor and Ricky a chance to have their moment to shine in the spotlight. That it also allows them the opportunity to hold hands where no one could see was merely an added side-benefit. 

Eventually Ryan lets go of Michael’s hand, but only so that he could put it over his heart for the playing of the Star Spangled Banner. 

“Hey, Mike?” he asks quietly, lips barely moving. 

“Yeah?” 

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” Ryan asks. Mike darts a glance at him out the corner of his eye. 

“Duh. Kiss you back.” 

Ryan smiles. 

 

33\. Turnaround   
Mike hates fighting with Ryan. He doesn’t fight fair. He’ll put on that adorable “I’m-sort-of-stupid” expression on his face, the one that is nothing but a charade, and act like Mike’s being completely unreasonable. It’s impossible to argue with him like that. Not when he turns all Mike’s perfectly sound objections and worries around on him. Expertly making him seem selfish and neurotic, even to himself. It was a skill that Ryan used often and without discretion. The result was that arguments were few and far between, they usually ended quickly, and were always followed by hours of make-up sex. 

 

34\. Curl  
You’re on your back, one arm pillowing your head, your eyes drooping tiredly. Ryan is stretched out on top of you, his head resting on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle. You stretch under him making him laugh as he rides out the movement. He squeezes you tighter as you wind your long legs around his hips. You bury your free hand in the thick hair on the back of his head. It’s starting to curl again.

“Ryan?” you say quietly. He looks up at you, all hazel-blue eyes and freckles. “Grow your hair back out. Please?” He grins. 

 

35\. Records  
No one’s really surprised when Michael Phelps shows up in Rio. It’s the Olympics. Something would be missing if Michael wasn’t there. He does a fluff piece for NBC talking about the US team’s ability to medal. He’s asked about Ryan’s chances of breaking his 8 gold medal record, and he answers with a smile and nothing but praise for Ryan’s swimming. 

“Records are made to be broken. If anyone can, it’s Ryan,” he says. And when Ryan earns his 8th and final gold medal in Rio, tying Mike, it’s Mike, sitting surrounded by Ryan’s family shouting loudest in celebration.

 

36\. Smarts  
You don’t know why you continue to let the things Ryan can do surprise you. He can do all sorts of things most people wouldn’t expect. Like, he’s really good at long division. Simple multiplication not so much, but division, he’s a master. You once watched him divvy up a $400 bar tab into 6 unequal parts, based on who drank what, all without a calculator. Or his incredible memory when it comes to obscure colors. Ecru is a color? You’d thought it was some sort of exotic bird. That he can make perfectly golden fluffy pancakes shouldn’t surprise you. 

 

37\. Messy  
“I have to go!” Mike says laughing. Arms and legs wrap around his torso tugging him back down. 

“I’m not done with you yet!” Ryan says teasingly. 

“I have to get to team processing! It’s important!” Michael says. Ryan smirks. 

“It’s not like you haven’t done it three times before! They give you a bunch of free stuff, make you sign some shit, and take your picture. You’re Michael Phelps. Be late!” he says, pulling Mike’s mouth back to his for another kiss, hands threading through hair. 

“Later!” Mike promises pulling fully away, hair a mess. Ryan watches him go.


End file.
